Recently, I had the pleasure of showing some new friends from Manhattan around Montrose, capping off their whirlwind tour of Texas (Dallas, San Antonio, and the Bayou City) in grand style with dinner and drinks.

The trio of branding consultants, in town to gather information about the psyche of Texas for a client, were bowled over by the hospitality at Chef Ryan Lachaine’s Riel and the heavy pours at Grand Prize, getting a personal tour of Houston from the comfort of my Tacoma. They were mortified to hear how relatively cheap it is to rent an older two-bedroom apartment in Montrose compared to their own neighborhoods back east.

Over the course of a lengthy meal I tried to explain some of the hallmarks of Houston that they noticed, including our city’s overt politeness, the wealth of diversity, how we survive in such sweltering temperatures, and where Houston fits into the grand scheme of the U.S.

They were surprised that us Houstonians largely don’t consider ourselves part of the South, but a whole other sweaty animal. Every city in Texas has its own “big” mood as it were. One of the most interesting things I heard was that their Dallas advisers were somewhat jealous of Houston’s recent popularity in the national press.

We’re the cool kids at the moment it seems.

It was a unique job to try and explain the Houston “thing” to outsiders, and the exercise and fellowship made me appreciate the big-little city we have here. I walked away from the experience with a whole new appreciation for Houston.

What’s with all the eye contact and nodding in Houston? As an outsider it has been strange to have strangers smile and nod at me, everywhere!

Zoe in Manhattan

Well Zoe, I like to call that the “Texas Nod”. It’s our way of recognizing the presence of others without having to say anything, using just a small smile and a subtle nod. It’s also a good way to be aware of your own surroundings. Sort of like making sure everyone in a public setting is connected somehow. In these days where we’re constantly on high alert -- sadly -- its advantageous to know who is around. It also instills a sense of community in a large populace.

“I got your back,” in a sense.

For outsiders it can be nerve wracking. What the hell are you looking at? Is there something on my face? Do I owe you money? I’ve tried the Texas Nod in other cities like New York City, Louisville, and in Los Angeles and it’s not received as well as it is in say, New Orleans or Denver. That’s probably because a lot of us Texans have escaped to those two locales.

Rest assured we’re just being polite and well, Texan.

Of course this all goes out the window when we get behind the wheel and friends turn into foes and we are locked in a mortal, four-wheeled combat dance where no quarter is given to anyone for any reason whatsoever.

But other than that we are super sweet and kind. Bless your heart if you think otherwise.

What is the next big band or musician that is going to make it big out of Houston?

Eric in Houston

I must admit my local musical knowledge is limited these days as I mostly listen to 17-minute Grateful Dead jams and the new Tool album almost exclusively. For this question I turned to Houston Chronicle arts and music reporter Andrew Dansby and Houston photographer Marco Torres.

“I still think (rapper) Doeman is on track to do something big,” Torres says. “He's booked to perform at the Mala Luna Music Festival in San Antonio in October and I'm sure he'll show up on other festival lineups soon.”

Torres says that Doeman stands out because he’s got incredible lyrics and rhymes with a purpose.

“He has a winner's mentality, too. He's also a gifted boxer,” Torres says.

Knowing how to bob, weave, and attack is surely good practice for the cutthroat music industry.

Meanwhile Dansby says that the next big thing is already out there doing it.

“Do we count Khruangbin as already having made it? Because they’re pulling in crowds of thousands and thousands of overseas and around that in New York City,” says Dansby. “There’s still room for growth, and they represent Houston’s diversity in a cool way.”

The trio, with a strange cosmic aural brew of funk and surf, formed in Houston in 2011 and will be playing their first hometown gig since blowing up big overseas at White Oak Music Hall on Nov. 2.

“They’re also about to be between albums, so the next one is not a make or break deal, but it could be something that puts them in the next tier,” Dansby adds.

Two acts that made names for themselves this year beyond the boundaries of Houston are bound to have full dance cards in 2020. “I think Megan Thee Stallion and Maxo Kream are two acts who are about to go from middle of the pack in hip-hop to bigger,” Dansby says.

Does the Houston Astros mascot Orbit have a family? Where did he come from?

Amy in Houston

When the Houston Astros organization returned Orbit to his rightful place as the team’s mascot, replacing the confusing abomination that was Junction Jack, my heart swelled with excitement and I wasn’t alone.

Plenty of other Astros fans were instantly reminded of seeing that funky green alien bopping up and down the corridors in the Astrodome. When Orbit returned with a special party at Minute Maid Park in 2012, I became fully invested in the team again after years of largely watching them with one eye open. All it took was the return of a seven-foot-tall alien seemingly made of dank weed to turn me back into an Astros fanatic.

I am not ashamed to say that during the 2017 season Orbit’s father joined him at Minute Maid Park I got a little misty-eyed.

But what about Orbit’s origin story? Where did he come from? According to Astros in-house historian and authenticator, Mike Acosta, Orbit does have a very detailed backstory. He was able to uncover an Astros publication from the early 1990s that detailed his origins.

We’re not sure if any of this is canon, but Orbit was reportedly born on the “sixth moon on the fifth planet in the nineteenth galaxy in the solar system”. He arrived on Earth on January 25, 1990 when he made his first appearance at a Houston’s Heflin Elementary School.

According to the publication he also played some sort of intergalactic form of baseball for a club called the Orion Craters where he earned All-Star honors for playing something akin to third base. He would also win the Solar Series with the Craters. He was somewhat of a legend for scoring just over 2 million space runs during his run with the Craters.

When Orbit was rebooted in 2012 after a 12-year absence from the team, it’s rumored that Junction Jack was buried in a shallow grave north of downtown. Some say he was buried under Tal’s Hill. Actually the costume was sent down to the minors to be used by a farm team, according to Acosta.

Send your questions for The Texican to preview@chron.com or craig.hlavaty@gmail.com and maybe he will feature your Houston pop-culture question in an upcoming column.